


Careless Whisper—cover by Mahito and Gojo Satoru

by spoonfuIIofsuga



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga)
Genre: crackfic, excessive fart jokes, im sorry, obviously something went wrong, this was supposed to be a doodlebob inspired fic, would a sober person write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 23:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoonfuIIofsuga/pseuds/spoonfuIIofsuga
Summary: three bros, chillin' in a ferris wheel cubicle, 5 ft apart bc they're extremely gay*fart jokes galore*
Relationships: Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Careless Whisper—cover by Mahito and Gojo Satoru

**Author's Note:**

> I am both so sorry and not sorry at all for what I just created—so sue me

“So, you’re doing _what_ to _who_ in the _where,_ now?”

“Satoru…”

“I know you explained this to me once as we walked over here…”

_Closer to six times but okay._

“But if you could do it _one_ more time, I _know_ I’ll have it down!” Gojo’s brilliant blue eyes peek out over the tops of his bottlecap lenses in an attempt to add to his plea. Getou sighs out approximately _half_ of his bottled-up frustration and halts his preparations for the contract ritual _yet again._

“This,” he says as he gestures vaguely to their crude ritual setup, “is a cursed spirit contract ritual. It helps me, a cursed spirit manipulator, to actually _gather_ spirits to manipulate.”

Gojo grasps his chin in his hand and nods in understanding. Thankfully he at least understands the simplest part of the ritual.

“The markings on the floor help me call on a cursed spirit and trap it within the circle until we create a binding vow.”

“Uh huh…”

“And the more powerful the shamans present when initiating contact, the stronger the final cursed spirit will be.”

“Uh huh…”

“Are you still confused?”

Gojo drops his hand and shrugs. “Probably, but let’s just throw some dice and see what happens anyway.” His beaming smile practically lit up the damp, industrial warehouse.

To this day, Getou cannot fathom what made him fall madly in love with this complete dumbass, but at least the white-haired shaman keeps his days interesting. 

Gojo cracks his knuckles and begins to stretch like he’s an Olympic athlete in preparation for the ritual.

“Satoru, baby, light of my life…what are you doing?”

Gojo feigns shock and gasps, “I need to get ready in case of a fight, Suguru! I need to put my best face forward to charm the cursed spirits, so they have _some_ incentive to forge an agreement with you.”

Getou runs his hand down his face, stepping away from the ritual circle to assure he doesn’t mess up any of the lines due to his annoying boyfriend.

“I’ve been using this cursed technique for years, Satoru. I think I’ve got the contract process down.”

“We’ll see about that.” Gojo retorts. He walks around the finished circle and assumes his rightful place at Getou’s side. To him, the varying red lines and symbols are a foreign language (though he swore he saw something that resembled the name _Doodlebob,_ but he could be mistaken _)_. As long as Getou knows what the symbols mean, he knows the two of them will be fine.

The curse manipulator steps forward and raises his hands in front of him. He channels cursed energy into his palms before directing it down to the innermost ring of the markings.

After reciting the incantation, a booming fart noise rips through the air, followed shortly by a sulphurous cloud exploding from the ground, encasing the warehouse in yellow fumes.

Gojo’s face scrunches up immediately as he pinches his nostrils together. Getou looks over at him in disgust before saying, “dude, come on, really? What crawled up your ass and died?”

“I’ve seen _your_ eating habits, so I thought it was you. _I_ just chose to be polite and not say anything,” Gojo says while wafting the nasty fart away from his nose.

“ _Ahem_.” Both shamans snap their heads around to the ritual circle, only to find a wrinkled blob of a figure laying on its side like Rose in the _Titanic_ —naked as the day it was born. 

“ _Mehoy menoy,_ fellas,” the blob croaks out. Getou groans, “is there a return policy? I don’t want this one.”

“Oh, don’t be a prick, Suguru. This one looks like it could be a fun time!”

“Says who, Satoru?”

“Says me,” Gojo rebuts with some supportive grunts coming from the ground.

“Okay FINE, let’s get this shit over with first.” Getou pulls out a Hello Kitty™ themed notepad with a matching light-up pen. He sits himself down criss-cross apple sauce in front of the spirit with Gojo following suit.

“Let’s begin with the simple stuff. What’s your name?”

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Not you, idiot.” Gojo pouts.

“Mahito,” Getou finally gets out of the spirit. “Okay, great start.” Getou clicks his pen, making the pen light up with pink and purple hues as he writes.

“Next up, the boring stuff. This vow binds you to me in a blood from now until all eternity, _blah blah blah_ , you will fight for me when summoned, _blah blah blah_ , but before we send you away, is there anything you require before this transaction is finalized?”

Mahito mimics the shamans’ seating arrangements and thinks for a moment before answering.

“Just three simple, small requests, m’boys. First, there is this restaurant in Shibuya that I heard is one of the best in Japan—so we need to go there for lunch.”

Getou jots it down.

“Secondly, I want to watch the entire first season of the classic comedy that shaped a generation, _Saved by the Bell._ ”

“OOOOH! A classic choice, my man,” Gojo adds from the peanut gallery.

“Thank you I _do_ , in fact, have impeccable taste. And finally, I want to go on a Ferris Wheel ride.” Mahito crosses his arms in a smug manner as Getou finishes his notes. He flips his Hello Kitty™ notebook closed in a flourish before standing up.

“That all sounds relatively reasonable, but our first stop is going to be a store because I’m _not_ having you get us arrested for public indecency. I already had to bust _him_ out for that same thing last semester,” Getou says while pointing a thumb in Gojo’s direction.

“For the record, it was not my fault—it was the cops’ for not understanding my artistic expression.”

“You were in a banana hammock with fishnets and stilettos, Satoru.”

“ARTISTIC EXPRESSION, SUGURU!”

~

Author-chan is a lazy sack of beans, so this is going to be told haphazardly because I can NOT be bothered to type up all three events—so SUE me.

So, the three idiots walk up to *insert fancy restaurant name here* and the line _wraps_ around the block. Gojo and Mahito grab a place in line as Getou puts down their name for a reservation.

He trudges back to his bumbling idiots and sees that *somehow*, Mahito is holding one of those portable karaoke mics and the two are serenading the line with the cult classic, _Careless Whisper_.

Gojo, by some means, acquired one of those inflatable saxophones you get at weddings or Bar Mitzvahs, and is just trying his best at accompanying Mahito’s subpar vocals with his own version of the famous sax solos.

After an hour and a half hour of waiting and poor renditions of _Stairway to Heaven_ and _Take On Me,_ they finally approach the front of the line. All of their stomachs hurt from hunger and finally, Mahito speaks up, saying that the street-meat vendor nearby smells great. He asks the shamans if they’re cool with saving his spot while he grabs some grub, to which Getou replies,

“You had us…wait in line…for almost _two hours_ for this restaurant…just for you to want street meat instead?”

Mahito thinks for a moment. “Yeah, sounds about right,” and bounces off to the vendor, Getou and Gojo quickly following afterwards.

After grabbing their *questionable* meal choice, they head back to the dorms to illegally stream the entirety (yes, entirety) of _Saved by the Bell_. Gojo cried three times (at what, we don’t know), Mahito laughed at everything Screech said, and Getou only tried to stab his eyes with pencils twice—so an improvement all around!

Finally, after one of the most grueling days Getou has ever had (and he’s dating Gojo Satoru), they finally haul their asses to a Ferris Wheel that, for plot purposes, was conveniently located near the Jujutsu Tech campus.

The queue _thankfully_ is much shorter for the ride than for the restaurant, so they make their way to the front of the line in no time at all.

However, they did _not_ account for the odd number of their party. Each Ferris Wheel cubicle? (idk what the fuck they’re called just go with it) can only fit two people so, for plot reasons, Gojo was left out while Mahito and Getou climb into theirs.

As they climb towards the top, the sexual tension within Getou’s cubicle is STIFFLING. Mahito keeps doing the “bend and snap” in front of Getou, not taking the hint that he’s not interested. However, when Mahito finally grips Getou’s thighs one too many times, he feels a piercing gaze on the back of his neck.

Mahito turns to the side, only to find Gojo fucking floating using his infititty bullshit, trying to jimmy rig the lock as he stares down Mahito, his menacing blue eyes and nose smooshed up against the glass.

The Ferris Wheel goes into Sicko Mode™ and halts suddenly just as Gojo attempts to open the door. Just as the door is about to slide open, the Ferris Wheel operator yells through his megaphone for, “that motherfucker who’s a floating safety hazard, please come back down to the ground or else I’m calling the cops.”

Gojo, once again, pouts, before slowly descending. However, he makes the most out of the situation and flicks Mahito the bird the entire way down.

At the sight, Mahito turns back toward Getou. “Well, that was fun! Time to go, I guess.” He draws out the action as he licks his hand from wrist to fingertips, lingering around the tip of his middle finger in a poor act of seduction. He holds out his hand to Getou for the most trusted and honorable means of forming a contract—the classic spit shake.

Getou does the same and clasps their hands together, therefore sealing their contractual agreement (without a notary—nice).

Getou begins to send Mahito back to *dun dun* the shadow realm but, of course, the dick cheese has some last words before he goes.

“Also, Getou, banana hammock guy? Really? _That’s_ the piece of ass you’re chasing?”

Getou shrugs, “for the record, _I’m_ the piece of ass he’s chasing. But, eh, he’s neat, I guess.”

“I try not to judge, but I’m a Virgo, and I can’t help myself,” is all Mahito says before he puffs away in another fart cloud. The fart cloud formerly sealed in the Ferris Wheel cubicle like a mummy in Tutankhamun’s tomb, earns Getou some choice looks as he leaves the Ferris Wheel grounds.

Gojo breaks the fourth wall and throws some finger guns at the reader before saying, in his best Porky Pig voice, “that’s all, folks!”


End file.
